


Take Me to Your Leader

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: Parks and Recreation, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: It's 2037, and Leslie Knope has just been sworn in as President of the United States, only to find her inaugural address followed by an alien invasion.  For help, she and Ben call on two experts--retired FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully--and the four team up to defeat the alien threat.





	Take Me to Your Leader

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @emilysim for giving me the idea to focus this crossover on the colonization.
> 
> I don't own The X-Files, Parks and Recreation, or anything related to them. Hope you enjoy!

“If they brief you on the aliens,” Ben had said to her, yesterday, “you have to tell me everything.  You can’t keep that kind of thing confidential.”

And she had thought he was joking.  Well, not joking about her having to tell him everything (Leslie knew Ben—he wouldn’t take kindly to being left out of anything even mildly science fictional), but joking about the part where they’d brief her on the aliens in the first place.  She had some notes in place, of course, for what to do about intergalactic relations if the issue arose, but she hardly thought she’d need to get them out at this stage.  She’d have enough to deal with, in her first term, just on this planet.

That was what she had thought, yesterday.

It was probably what she would have thought this morning, too, if she had been thinking about aliens.  Which she hadn’t been.  She’d been thinking about her inauguration, about her address, about who would be there, about what this meant for her. 

And that part had all gone well.  At least Leslie thought so.  It was hard to remember now.  She thought she remembered taking the oath of office, Ben beaming at her with pride, her own feelings to match.  She thought she remembered her speech, making all the points she’d worked over.  She thought she remembered Lady Gaga singing the national anthem.

She knew she remembered the ship.

The ship was probably what everyone else would remember too, which was annoying (okay, there were aspects of this situation that were far worse than annoying, but Leslie thought she had the right to feel at least a little irritated, on this day of all days).  You could put hours of work and care into preparing a good inaugural address, into paring down your points so that you didn’t end up pulling a William Henry Harrison, and the whole thing could be overshadowed in minutes by just one alien spaceship.  No, annoying didn’t begin to cover it.

It had started out…well, strange.  Not what Leslie would have expected, if she’d been expecting aliens.  (She’d asked Ben, on their way back to the White House, if he thought it was weird too—he certainly had more expertise in this topic—and, after citing three books and two movies, he concluded that it was, indeed, weird.)  The aliens were gray, first of all, not green like everyone said they were, although Ben didn’t think that part was especially weird, so maybe it wasn’t.  But then they had stepped from the ship and spoken.  “Earth dwellers of 2012!”

People were been staring, open mouthed.  Some screams, she didn’t know from whom.  But she thought that, as president, it was incumbent on her to do something in this situation.  “Actually,” she said, “it’s 2037.”

The head alien—well, she guessed it was the head alien, it was the one who had spoken—turned and stared at her.  It was an unnerving sensation.  “What?” it said.

“It’s 2037,” Leslie said.  “Not 2012.”

“What?”

“It’s 2037,” Leslie said.  She pointed upwards, to where the words _Presidential Inauguration 2037_ were projected against the sky.  “See?”

The alien looked up at where she was pointing.  “You’re kidding me,” it said.  “Shit.”  It turned its head and looked into the ship.  “You were supposed to be setting our flying speed so that we’d get here in 2012!” it shouted.  “Mind telling me what the problem was?”

An additional alien appeared from the ship at that point, rubbing its head with long fingers and explaining that none of this was an exact science, that you could do your best but you couldn’t guarantee you’d arrive at any particular place on any particular date.  And, it pointed out, Earth years were so short and insignificant anyway that twenty-five of them hardly made a difference.  The head alien didn’t seem to like this explanation much, and they engaged in some heated back and forth about the need for workplace competence, and the whole thing started to seem kind of funny, as far as alien invasions went.

“Well, they’re going to think we lack power,” the head alien was saying, “and they won’t want to do our bidding.”

“That seems like an easy fix, though,” the other alien said, and the two aliens looked at each other.  Then it took some kind of vial out of the ship—it was filled with a black substance, Leslie could see it on one of the screens—and tossed it into the crowd.  For a moment, nothing happened.  Then people started to scream—a lot more people now, screaming—and she could see this on the screen too.  Their eyes, black. 

It didn’t seem kind of funny anymore.

So now they were back at the White House, trying to figure out what to do.  They were in the White House’s underground bunker, specifically.  She didn’t know why she should be surprised that it existed, but she was.  She’d brought out her binder about intergalactic diplomacy, but none of it seemed relevant somehow.  A lot of people were here, some of whom had questionable security clearance, but that didn’t seem relevant either.  The kids, for example, clustered together against the wall and looking scared.  And Ben too, of course.  She couldn’t have kept him out, even if she’d wanted to, which she didn’t.  She liked having rules, knowing what to do, but right now she was glad that none of the rules applied.  She squeezed his hand under the table, when no one was looking, and he squeezed hers back. 

“We should nuke them.”  This was Harold; he was Sonia’s Secret Service agent and had already revealed himself to have a rather pessimistic view of life.  “Just nuke them, I think.”

“Harold,” Leslie said, “we’re not going to nuke them because that would involve nuking our own citizens.  Also, you’re not helping.”

“Well, I think we should nuke them,” Harold said, but he stopped talking when Leslie shot him a glare.

“The most important thing to do,” she said, “is to ensure that our people are safe.  That whatever contagion they’ve started is contained—and reversed if possible.  And we need to do it fast.”  She thought about all the people who were still out there.  About Ann.  “Then we can figure out a way to get rid of them.”

“And how are we going to do that?”  One of her military advisors.

“They’ve got to have a weakness,” Ben said.  “Aliens always do.  There’s got to be something that we can use against them.”  A babble of questions and comments arose—how they could discover the weakness, and how he was so sure that they had one anyway, and how that was going to stop the contagion, and that this was real life and not a science fiction movie, and (from Harold) that they should just go ahead and nuke them—and the meeting seemed, not for the first time, on the verge of devolving into chaos.

“President Knope,” said a quiet voice by her shoulder.  “May I make a suggestion?”

“Please,” Leslie said, turning around.  It was the FBI director, Walter Skinner.  He’d seen this country through a lot, she knew, in his many years with the bureau; he had one metallic leg and a take no crap attitude to show for them.  If he had advice for this situation, she wanted to hear it. 

“Considering these circumstances,” he said, “I think there are some people you should get in touch with.  Strictly on an ad hoc basis.  They don’t have any official government status, not anymore.  But in this situation…if I were you, I’d want them in my corner.”

“Who are they?” Leslie asked.  “And how can I get in touch with them?”

He gave her the names.

 

Maybe they had caused it somehow, Scully thought, even though she knew that that was ridiculous.  But she couldn’t help thinking it, remembering their conversation last night.

They’d been watching some flying saucer movie on TV: bad special effects, and worse dialogue, but somehow enjoyable even so.  “Do you ever miss it?” Mulder asked her, when the main couple (you could tell they were scientists because they were wearing glasses) were engaged in a pitched battle with the Martians.

She thought about it.  “Not usually,” she said.  “Not now.”  She looked over at him.  “Do you?”

“No,” he said, “not most of it.”  He looked back at the screen, and she followed his gaze; one of the scientists had dived to protect the other, and now they were moving synchronously.  “Maybe that part of it.”

She understood what he meant—that adrenaline rush, that knowing there was someone there who was always at your side.  “Yeah,” she said.  An alien ray gun nearly took off one of the scientists’ heads, then.  “I don’t miss all the almost dying, though,” she said, and he nodded at that, squeezing her hand.  “And I think we’re still pretty in sync.  Even if it’s only around the house.” 

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” he said, and he smiled at her.  And they never did find out how the movie ended.

This morning, she hadn’t thought about the conversation.  They’d been otherwise occupied over breakfast; Susanna, on her way to school, had been talking a mile a minute about the inauguration.  This was the first election in which she’d been able to vote, and she’d thrown herself into the process wholeheartedly; she’d been as involved as she could with volunteering in the lead-up to the election, and she’d been overjoyed at the result. 

“You guys are going to watch, right?” she asked, not for the first time. 

“Yes, of course we’re going to watch,” Scully said.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Mulder added. 

“You should record it,” Susanna said.  “In case we want to watch any of it again.”  She shook her head.  “I can’t believe I have to watch it in school.  There’s going to be so many people who just don’t care.”

“Well, I’m sure you care enough to make up for them,” Mulder said, and Susanna laughed at that.

Then she looked at the clock.  “Oh, yikes, I’ve got to go,” she said, grabbing her backpack.  “See you later, Mom, Dad.”  She kissed them each quickly; she didn’t seem to consider herself too old for that, which pleased them more than they let on. 

They watched from the window as she ran down the driveway, waving for the school bus, and made it in the nick of time—her usual way.  They spent the morning at home; Scully did the crossword puzzle, with Mulder offering his commentary, and they took Pip out for a run around the property.  And just before noon, they settled onto the couch to watch the inauguration.  Remembering Susanna’s words, Scully made sure to hit record.

She was sorry she’d done that, now, because Mulder kept replaying it, the scene on the National Mall.  The landing of the ship, the release of the virus.  Sometimes he played it at normal speed; sometimes he slowed it down and looked at the individual frames; once he even played it fast, which felt like the eeriest of all.  “Would you stop that?” she asked him.  “We’ve seen this at least twenty times by now.  What are you hoping for?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder said.  He hit pause, at least.  “Clues, I guess.”

“Clues to what?” Scully asked.  “We know what this is, Mulder.”  She’d known from the alien’s first words, from its address to _earth dwellers of 2012_.  She’d known what 2012 was supposed to mean.

They’d thought 2012 was the date of the colonization.  They’d expected it, even prepared for it, and it hadn’t happened.  And she’d thought, at the time, that somehow they’d gotten lucky.  She should have known better.  In their line of work, you never got lucky for long.

Looking at Mulder’s face, though, she knew that he felt the same: that he’d really thought they’d outrun this thing.  That after all the crap, they’d earned this, the life they had now: the two of them in their house, sharing, finally, a sense of peace, with a son who turned up for surprise visits and a daughter who surprised them every day.

Said daughter was, mercifully, all right: she’d shown up around two on the school bus, explaining that they’d sent everybody home.  She was now curled up at the end of the couch, cuddling Pip, who howled periodically; she seemed to sense the tension among her humans.

“But you guys,” Susanna said, “you know what to do about this kind of thing.”  It was half a question, half a statement; Scully could see, in her face, the vestiges of the belief that the two of them could fix absolutely anything.

She moved over to sit closer to Susanna and gave her a hug.  “We know some things,” she said.

“This isn’t our first go-round with extraterrestrials,” Mulder said.  He let the television run for about two seconds and then paused it again.  “Not by a long shot.”

“And this is something we expected to happen.  Not now,” she added quickly.  “A long time ago, before you were born.  But it didn’t, and we thought…”  She cut herself off.  _We thought this wasn’t our fight anymore_ was what she had wanted to say, but she knew she couldn’t.  In a situation like this, there was no cutting yourself off from everyone else, no sticking your head in the sand.  “Mulder, do you still have all the…?”

“Of course,” he said, setting the remote down.  “I’ll get them.”  They’d made plans in 2012, plans that had gradually overwhelmed his office; when she’d moved back in, she hadn’t seen them, although there’d been more boxes in the room, a new file cabinet.  She wasn’t surprised, really, that he hadn’t completely gotten rid of them.  She didn’t think she would have wanted him to.  That wasn’t him.  That wasn’t them.

“We’re not going to give up,” she said to Susanna, as Mulder headed for his office.  “You can count on that.  And other people won’t either.”

Susanna looked at her, thoughtfully, scratching Pip’s ears.  “Leslie will do something,” she said, sounding more hopeful than she had yet that afternoon. 

“Of course she will,” Scully said.  “She’s our president now.”  What a hell of a way to start.

Her phone rang then; she didn’t recognize the number, and she considered not answering, but then she picked it up anyway.  “Scully,” she said.  It came naturally, in this situation.

“This is Dana Scully?” asked a voice on the other end.  It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, this is Dana Scully,” she said.  “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Oh, I’m so glad I caught you!” the voice exclaimed.  “This is Leslie Knope.”

She couldn’t have heard right.  “I’m sorry?”

“This is Leslie Knope,” the voice repeated, and when Scully didn’t say anything, she added, “Your president?  Not that I mean to throw my weight around.  Although in this situation…”

“I know who you are,” Scully said.  “Just…is this some kind of joke?  Why are you calling me?”  Susanna was looking at her curiously.

“No, not a joke!” President Knope said.  “I was told to get in touch with you.  Can I assume you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes,” Scully said.  It was beginning to make sense now.  “Yes, I’ve seen it.”  

“Good,” President Knope said.  “That saves time.  Well, we’ve been having a meeting, obviously, to figure out what to do, and FBI Director Skinner told me that you were the people I should talk to.  You and your partner.”  Mulder walked back into the room then, carrying a couple of file folders, and Scully waved him over. 

“Yes,” Scully said.  “Yes, he’s here right now.  Do you mind if I put you on speaker?”

“Go ahead,” said President Knope, and Scully put her phone down, hitting the speaker button. 

“Okay,” she said.  “Okay, what would you like us to do?”

“We’d like you to get here as soon as possible,” President Knope said, and Susanna was apparently better at recognizing voices than Scully was, because her eyes nearly popped out of her head.  “And to bring any information you have that could help in this crisis.”

“Yes, we’ve been working on that already,” Scully said.  “Mulder was just getting some files together when you called.”

“That sounds perfect, then,” President Knope said; even at a moment like this, there was that energy in her voice, like they’d heard so many times over the course of her campaign.  “Do you need us to send transportation for you?”

“It’ll probably be quicker if we drive ourselves,” Scully said.  “Although…what’s it like in the city?  Chaotic, I’d assume.”

“That’s what we’re hearing,” President Knope said.  “Here, just a minute.”  They could hear her talking faintly to someone on the other end.  “Give us your license plate number,” she said, when she came back, “so they’ll know to let you through.”  Scully gave it to her, and she said, “Thanks again, both of you.  I’ll see you soon.”

When the call ended, Scully jumped up from the couch.  “Let’s get everything together,” she said, “and then let’s go.”

“Are we going…to the White House?” Mulder asked. 

“Mom, was that really…?” Susanna seemed to have lost her powers of speech.

“Yes, we are, and yes, it was,” Scully said.  “To the best of my knowledge, anyway.  Mulder, are those the files from 2012?”

He nodded.  “But if we’re going in the car,” he said, “let me grab a few more things.  Just in case.”

“Great,” Scully said, and he headed back to his office.  “Honey,” she said to Susanna, “get anything you’ll need, okay?  I don’t think we should keep the president waiting.”

“Am I…am I coming with you?” Susanna asked.

“Of course you are,” Scully said.  She realized she hadn’t checked with anyone, but as far as she was concerned, this wasn’t in doubt.  “We’re not splitting up.  Not in a situation like this.”

“Are we bringing Pip too?” Susanna asked.

Scully looked at Pip.  She was the biggest dog they’d had (by far), liked to poke her nose into your lap if she felt she wasn’t getting enough attention, and was still howling intermittently.  “Sure, what the hell?”

 

“So are they partners,” Leslie was asking Director Skinner, “or partners?”

“Trust me,” he said, “we don’t have time to get into that.”

As far as Ben was concerned, that wasn’t the most interesting question, anyway.  He’d just been told that there was a whole division of the FBI devoted to—well, to stuff that he’d always thought was fictional, essentially.  To stuff that he might have liked to believe in, but that he’d been content enough to read about in books or to watch on TV.  He had a million questions about it, things that he’d like to ask these former agents when they showed up.  But, he tried to remind himself, this wasn’t the time for him to satisfy his own curiosity.  He needed to do anything he could to contribute to helping the situation.  And he had to be here for Leslie, who he knew would go a whole week without sleeping if she thought she could solve the problem that way.  This morning, he’d been thinking about celebrating with her: it was her day, and he was so proud of her.  Right now, it didn’t look like celebrations were going to happen.

The door opened, and in came—well, maybe they were the former agents Director Skinner had told them about, although Ben couldn’t be sure.  An older man and woman, anyway.  Along with a teenage girl.  And a sizeable Newfoundland.

“Ma’am,” one of the secret service agents was saying, “I really don’t think you should bring that dog in—”

“It’s fine,” Leslie said, quickly rising from her seat.  “You’re Dana Scully and Fox Mulder?  I’m Leslie Knope.”

“Yes, that’s right,” the woman said.  “I mean, that’s who we are.  And we know that’s who you are.”  Leslie held out a hand, and she took it.  “This is our daughter, Susanna,” she added, gesturing to the girl with her free hand.  “And the dog’s Pip.”

“She’s a big fan of yours,” the man said, shaking Leslie’s hand in turn.  “The kid, not the dog.  Volunteered for your campaign and everything.”

Even in this moment—even when the world was more than a little upside down—Ben saw the Leslie he knew, the one he’d seen on the campaign trail and for a long time before that, the one who took a genuine interest in people who wanted to talk to her.  She smiled at Susanna, shaking her hand as well.  “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said.  “Thank you so much for volunteering.”

“It’s so…it’s so nice to meet you too,” Susanna said.  “I…it was…I liked doing it.”  Mulder and Scully were exchanging hellos with Director Skinner.

“Come sit down,” Leslie said.  Once they were all settled at the table, she said, “Director Skinner tells me the two of you would be the best people to help in this situation.  Any insights, off the top of your heads?”

“It’s the colonization,” Mulder said, quickly.  “We expected it in 2012, not now.  But it seems like they got their times wrong.”

“The colonization?” Leslie asked.  She reached out for one of her binders, and Ben handed it to her.  She paged through it.  “Should I know…”

“It isn’t something most people would know about,” Scully said.  “It’s been very hidden.  Hushed-up.”

“A lot of conspiracies around it,” Mulder said.  “We won’t get into all of that now.  There’s not enough time, and it’s almost impossible to fully understand, anyway.”  Ben hoped they might get into it at some point, after they’d dealt with the situation.  It sounded intriguing.

“So the aliens are trying to colonize?” Leslie asked.  “What’s their aim in that?”

“To extend their territory,” Mulder said.  “The idea is to get rid of the people.  Except for the hybrids.” 

“Hybrids?”  Ben couldn’t stop himself from jumping into the conversation.

“There were human conspirators working with the aliens,” Mulder said, “and they created human-alien hybrids.”

“There were various experiments,” Scully said, “but these hybrids would be resistant to the black oil.  The substance they dropped into the crowd, during the inauguration.  It takes over people’s bodies and forces them to obey the aliens’ will.”

“Well, how can we stop it?” Leslie said, briskly.  No wondering if they could.  Straight to action.

“They developed a vaccine,” Scully said, “many years ago.  From our research, we haven’t been able to find any remaining supplies, though.  If we had access to the black oil ourselves, though, I might be able to rework it.  I don’t want to promise anything, but—”

“But if anyone can do it, Scully can,” Mulder added.  His hand was on hers, atop the table.

“How can we get you access then, Dr. Scully?” Leslie asked.  “And while you’re working on that, what else can we do?”

“I’ve been looking back through our files,” Mulder said, “things that we researched leading up to 2012.  We found, almost at the end, some evidence that there might be reserves of the oil in one spot on the southern shore of Lake Michigan.  That’s probably our best bet, in terms of geographical proximity.  And in the meantime—you can kill them by hitting them in the back of the neck.  But you have to be careful, because that releases a green substance, and it’s toxic.”

“So not as viable a large-scale solution,” Leslie said, “as the vaccine.”

“Definitely not,” Scully said.

“All right,” Leslie said.  “Let me think a minute.”  Everyone in the room was looking at her, anxiously.  For far from the first time, Ben knew.  “All right,” she said.  “Can we have the two of you go to Lake Michigan?  I can have people go with you, if that would be helpful.  And here we’ll focus on delaying them.  If you could leave me any notes you have about that back of the neck thing—if we could go over that in some more detail.  We need to buy time.”

“Of course we could,” Mulder said.  “And I think—”

He was interrupted by a commotion outside the door to the bunker.  “Look, I know she’s trying to save the world,” a voice was saying, “but I’ve got to get in there.  She needs to know this.”

“Ma’am, I don’t—”  One of the secret service agents, Ben thought.

“Look, if you could just tell them to check the television,” the first voice said.  Ben recognized it now: it was Caitlin, an aide of Leslie’s.  He hadn’t recognized it at first, he realized, because Caitlin was one of the most unflappable people he’d met; he’d never heard her sound even mildly worried, and now she sounded panicked.  “Because they need to see what’s happening, if they haven’t yet.”  At that, Leslie pressed a button on the table, wordlessly, and an image appeared on the wall.  A group of people, their eyes black.  Aliens advancing on them.  A ship flying off, in the background.

“—a scene from Pittsburgh,” the announcer was saying, “but by no means unique in the nation today.  We’re receiving reports from across the country.  The aliens are traveling fast, and the contagion with them.  So far, we have almost no information on the underlying causes of this crisis, but we will bring you more as soon as we get it.  For the moment, we can only hope that newly-sworn-in President Leslie Knope will come out strong against the aliens.”  A scream sounded in the distance; the announcer looked around nervously.  “And now, the weather and sports.”

“Of course I’m going to come out strong against the aliens,” Leslie muttered.  “What do they take me for?”  A pause.  “I think this changes some things,” she said.  “I think…I should go with the two of you.  To Lake Michigan.”  A commotion arose at this—many of the people in the room, clearly, thought she should do no such thing—but Leslie held up a hand.  “I’m the president,” she said.  “I need to be where the most important work is being done.  Even if it’s dangerous.  Especially if it’s dangerous.  We need to keep people safe.”

“But President Knope,” one of the military advisors said, “what will we do here in Washington?  Who will be in charge?”

“We’ll work out a plan for that,” Leslie said; she’d already turned her binder to a fresh page, and she had that look in her eyes that she usually did when she was about to do something that involved getting very little sleep.  “We’ll do that tonight.”

“We can’t make a whole plan in a night,” the advisor protested.  “Not for an unheard of situation like this.”

“We’re in a crisis,” Leslie said.  “We don’t have a lot of time, so we need to make this happen as fast as possible.  And it’s not unheard of.  Agents Mulder and Scully can help us, with their background knowledge.  And then tomorrow we’ll go.”  She smiled.  “It’s not like you won’t hear from me again.  I’ll still have my phone.  I think.”  She turned to Mulder and Scully.  “Do the aliens interfere with phones?”

“Not that we know of,” said Scully.

“That’s not really a part of their M.O.,” said Mulder.

“Good, good,” Leslie said.  “All right.  Now if you can show us some of those files you brought…”

As Mulder and Scully started spreading the documents out on the table, Ben turned to Leslie.  “I’m coming with you guys, you know,” he said.

He half-thought she might argue with him, tell him to stay here, that there was no point in being a political power couple if you couldn’t divide and conquer.  Instead she just smiled at him.  “Of course you are,” she said, squeezing his hand.  “I know I can’t keep you out of anything involving aliens.”

That wasn’t what he’d meant, of course—he just didn’t want the two of them to be apart at a time like this.  But he supposed she had a point.  “You’d better not,” he said, smiling back, and then they started looking over the files.

 

This had all felt very surreal, and that was before President Knope climbed into the passenger seat and asked if anyone had thoughts on the appropriate kind of music to play on an alien-defeating road trip.

They’d left the White House this morning, the four of them.  Susanna had stayed there, along with Pip.  Mulder wasn’t wild about leaving her behind, and he knew Scully wasn’t either, but the three of them had talked about it last night, and they knew it would be a safer place for her.  They’d given her long hugs, the last thing before they left the bunker, and she’d looked at them with a fierce, hopeful expression, and she’d never reminded him more of Scully.  “You’re going to beat them,” she’d said.  Then she’d said, “Right?”, softly, and they’d hugged her again, even more tightly.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Scully had said.  “That’s a promise.”

“We’re not going to stop fighting,” Mulder had said.  “That’s not what we do, in this family.  Right?”

“Right,” Susanna had said, her voice firmer.  “I love you guys.”

“I love you too,” they’d both said, almost at the same moment.

With their last look back, they’d seen her sitting with the Knope-Wyatt triplets; they were a little older than she was, but they seemed to have gotten along last night.  He was glad they were all together.  He didn’t want to think of his daughter being alone.

And now they were in the car, the four of them—him and Scully and Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt.  This wasn’t something he’d expected, especially not at this time in his life.  A secret mission with the president.  At one point, it might have sounded exciting.  Now he just wanted to be home, but he knew that wasn’t an option.

President Knope was looking at him as she plugged in her phone.  “Any thoughts on the music?” she said.  “It’s a long drive.  Music can’t hurt.”

“We used to listen to classical music, usually,” Scully said from the back seat.

“I wouldn’t say usually,” Mulder said.  He knew this was far from the most important issue facing them at the moment, but the whole situation was so strange anyway that he figured he might as well.  “Just when you got to pick the station.”

“Which was not often enough,” Scully said. 

“The two of you…did you do this often?” Ben asked tentatively.  “That was what you did at the FBI?  Fight aliens?”

“That was part of it,” Scully said. 

“We investigated aliens and other paranormal phenomena,” Mulder said.  He could see Ben’s face in the rearview mirror; he looked stunned.

“Be careful about getting him started,” President Knope said.  “He’ll talk your ear off about this kind of stuff, if you let him.”

“I wouldn’t talk anyone’s ear off,” Ben said.  “I was just thinking that it would be a shame to pass up the opportunity of learning more about this.  It sounds very interesting.”

“Well, we’d be happy to tell you about it,” Mulder said.  “Pass time on the drive that way.”

“Speaking of the drive, we should get going,” President Knope said.  “I’ll start with the classical music,” she added, as Mulder started to drive.  “As requested.”

“Thank you, President Knope,” Scully said.

“Please,” she said.  “We’re going to be on a long drive together.  Call me Leslie.”

“All right,” Scully said.  She caught Mulder’s eye in the rearview mirror.  He knew she was finding this as weird as he was.  And they’d experienced some pretty weird things. 

“So when you say other paranormal phenomena,” Ben asked, “what kind of things do you mean?”

“Oh, where to start?” Mulder said.  “Let’s see.  There was the flukeman…”

“He doesn’t want to hear about the flukeman,” Scully said.  “I don’t even want to hear about it.”

“No, I’m happy to hear about it!” Ben said.  “What is a flukeman?”

So Mulder explained the flukeman, as he drove, and Ben eagerly asked questions.  “Wow,” he said.  “It’s like something out of a movie.  Do you think there could be more of them?”

“Let’s hope not,” Scully said.

“Yeah, it sounds gross,” Leslie said.  “Should we stop for breakfast?”

“Now?” Ben asked.

“Well, we have to stop some time,” Leslie pointed out.  “That looks like a diner over there.  I hope they have waffles.”

“We’re just going to go into a diner?” Mulder said.  “I mean, you’re the president.”

“If being the president means I can’t go into diners,” Leslie said, “I’m resigning once we’ve dealt with the aliens.”  She laughed.  “Kidding.  Kidding.  I’d never resign.”

“I didn’t mean you can’t go into a diner at all,” Mulder said.  “I just meant right now.  We don’t have any secret service…and we’re in the middle of an alien invasion…”

“But we have to eat,” Leslie said.  He couldn’t argue with that.

“It should be fine,” Scully said.  “We’ve faced things more threatening than diner customers.”  He couldn’t argue with that either.

“And I’ll wear my coat with my hood up,” Leslie said, “so people aren’t looking at my face.  If that would help.”

They parked the car outside the diner and walked in, Leslie with her hood pulled tightly around her face.  He frankly wasn’t sure that she wasn’t drawing more attention to herself this way, but it didn’t seem worth arguing about. 

There was no one in there, except for one elderly woman standing by the cash register.  “Wow,” she said.  “You four are sure brave to come out here today.”

“No customers, huh?” Scully said.

“Nah,” the woman said.  “Everyone’s either hiding or dying or being possessed by the aliens or something.  I don’t know why being possessed by the aliens would keep you from coming out to eat, though.  Maybe the aliens don’t like waffles.”  She chuckled.

“You have waffles?” Leslie asked.

“Yeah,” the woman said.  “That’s our specialty.  Why are you wearing that thing around your face?  You an alien?”

“No, no,” Leslie said.  “I’m…I’m the president, actually.”  She let her hood drop.

The woman seemed unimpressed.  “Oh,” she said.  “Table for four?”

“Yes, please,” Leslie said, and the woman led them to a booth, putting down menus.

“You’re not thinking about hiding yourself?” Scully asked her, as she was about to move away.

“Nah,” she said.  “I figure I’ve been through plenty of things worse.  And I’ve got to run this place.  Take your time with the choosing, if you want.  I don’t have anyone else to wait on.”

“Oh, we won’t take too long,” Leslie said.  “I already know what I want.  And besides, we’ve got to get moving.  We’re on a mission to stop the aliens, you know.”

The woman didn’t seem very impressed by that either.  “Oh,” she said. 

Leslie announced that she was getting the waffle special, and after some consideration the rest of them all decided to do the same.  “Great,” the woman said, when they told her.  “Four waffle specials, coming up.”

“Waffles are my favorite,” Leslie said.  “Always have been.  And you should have your favorite food when you’re dealing with something like this, right?”

“Makes sense to me,” Ben said.

“I knew that, actually, about the waffles,” Scully said.  “It was in one of your videos.  Susanna showed me.”  She was quiet, then, and Mulder reached out for her hand.

Leslie must have picked up on it.  “Hey, they’ll be all right,” she said.  “Our kids are in the safest place there is, right now.  I didn’t even know the White House had that bunker.  And I’ve done a ton of research on the building.”

“She has,” Ben said.  “Two binders full?”

“Three,” Leslie said.  “Of course we worry about them—what parent wouldn’t?  But I believe they’ll be safe.  And I believe we’ll solve this.”  Mulder had never been as gung-ho about Leslie as Susanna had—it wasn’t anything personal, but by now he didn’t have much trust in the government, no matter who was in charge.  But in this moment, he could see what it was about her.  That confidence.  A certain magnetism. 

“You’re right,” Scully said, and he could tell she was feeling it too.  “There’s no point in…in agonizing.  What we need to do is act.”

“Which we will do,” Leslie said, cheerfully, as their food arrived, “as soon as we’re fueled by waffles.”

They all seemed to want to avoid talking about the aliens while they ate.  “Do the two of you have other kids?” Ben asked.

“Yes, we have a son,” Mulder said.  He was still grateful that he could.  “He’s much older, though.  He lives in…Pennsylvania, now.”  He thought Jackson was living in Pennsylvania, anyway.  You could never be one hundred percent sure with him.  He wondered if it was safe, where he was.

“How long have you been together?” Leslie asked.

“That’s a complicated one,” Scully said, laughing.  “Well, we started working together in 1992.  And then…I guess…since 2000?  Officially.”

“We’ve been married almost thirty years,” Mulder offered. 

“That’s great,” Leslie said.  “We met through work too, you know.  I think that’s a great place to find someone.”  She gestured with her remaining piece of waffle.  “I mean that in a completely ethical way.”

“We get it,” Scully said.  “I think you’re right.”

Leslie finished the waffle.  “All right,” she said.  “Let’s pay so we can get back on the road.”

They did so—“You all have a good one,” the woman told them—and drove off down the mostly empty highway.  Mulder wasn’t about to complain about the lack of alien interference they’d faced so far, but he did find it a bit unnerving.  He was used to being chased, to the sense that something was going to happen at any moment.  Now…it seemed like nothing was.  Just driving along as quickly as they could, having getting-to-know-you conversations.

He was telling Ben about the case with the vampires in Chaney, Texas, and Scully was, as usual, telling her own, incorrect version, when all of that changed.

They were up ahead, spanning the highway so that there was no way around them.  A line of still bodies—one or two were actually aliens, Mulder thought, but most of them were humans.  He wasn’t close enough to see their eyes, but from the way they held themselves, he would bet money that they’d been infected.

He wasn’t the only one to notice.  “Do we fight them?” Ben asked.

“If we have to,” Mulder said.  “But maybe we should turn—”  He looked in the rearview mirror.  More aliens, more people.  Filling in the road behind them.  “I guess we fight them,” he said.  “You remember what we said?  About the back of the neck?”  They were advancing towards the car now, and they didn’t look friendly.  He reached for his gun and saw Scully doing the same.  Then suddenly she stopped.

“Wait,” she said.  “Mulder, we should go that way.”  She pointed to the side of the road, a wooded area beyond it. 

“In the woods?” he asked.  “Scully, are you sure?”  He wasn’t opposed to trying it, but he wasn’t sure how far they could get the car, and the suggestion didn’t seem like her.

“Yes,” she said.  “I…I’m getting something.”

“You’re…like from Jackson?” he said, and she nodded.  He remembered her visions, of course, but she hadn’t had one for a long time now.  Maybe there hadn’t been the need.

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m not sure, it’s…we should be safe, if we go that way.”  Leslie and Ben were watching them, understandable looks of confusion on their faces.

There wasn’t much time to think over the decision, especially since the first alien reached the car at that moment.  It grabbed the door handle, rattling it.  “Okay,” Mulder said.  “Let’s go.”

There was a gap in the barrier between the highway and the woods, almost as if someone had prepared it for them.  Mulder put on speed, shaking off the alien, driving through the gap and then through the woods, as quickly as he could without hitting any trees.  “Where are we going?” Ben asked, a mix of trepidation and excitement in his voice.

“And what are we doing?” Leslie asked. 

“Not entirely sure,” Mulder said. 

“But we should be all right,” Scully said.  “Just a little further…”

And then they were in an area where the trees thinned, and there was a head and shoulders sticking out of the ground: a young woman with light brown skin and curly hair.  “I think I see them!” she yelled, scrambling fully out of the hole, and after a moment Jackson followed her.

“Yeah, it’s them,” he said.  He walked over as Mulder parked the car.  “I’m glad you guys made it.”  A double take.  “Woah, you brought the president.”

 

Scully climbed out of the car as soon as Mulder stopped it, hurrying to hug her son.  “Jackson!” she said.  “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay too,” he said, hugging her back.  He hugged Mulder too, once he got out of the car.  “And the kid?”

“She’s safe.  She’s at the White House,” Scully said.  “What are you doing here?  Why were you in a hole in the ground?”

“Oh, this is our secure space,” Jackson said.  “We’ve been working on it for a while.  In case something like this happened.”  The woman who’d appeared along with him came forward then, and Jackson took her hand.  “This is Marina.  I’ve told you about Marina, right?”

Scully had known that there was such a person as Marina, and that she was Jackson’s girlfriend, but that was about all she could say.  “Sure,” she said.  “It’s nice to meet you, Marina.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Marina said.  “Jackson’s told me a lot about you both.”  She looked around.  “We should probably get back underground right now.  We don’t know who could be coming, and the car’s not exactly unobtrusive.”

“We can’t stay very long,” Mulder said, even as the four of them started following Jackson and Marina back towards the hole.  “We’re on our way to Lake Michigan.  To try to develop a vaccine.”

“Just until the area clears out,” Jackson said.  “They won’t stay in one place too long.  Why’d you bring the president?”

“Well, we’re working together,” Scully said.  “Skinner told her about us, and she called us in for help.”

“Maybe the government’s dealing with this better than we thought they would,” Jackson said, grinning at her. 

The hole had a ladder leaning down into it, and all of them climbed in quickly.  Scully didn’t know what she’d expected to find inside, but it certainly wasn’t what she saw, which was some odd combination of studio apartment (well-furnished living area), 1950s bomb shelter (large amount of canned food), and laboratory (set-up of advanced computers).  Marina, the last down the ladder, pressed a button, and a cover slid into place over the hole.  “Welcome,” she said.

 “This place is…” Scully said.  She wasn’t sure what to say.

“We’ve been working on it for a while,” Jackson said.  “I know it’s seemed safe, these past years, but with everything that happened before…I mean, you never know, right?  You guys get it.”

“You’ve done a good job,” Mulder said, looking around approvingly.  “I think he’s our kid, Scully.”  She could have rolled her eyes, but she just laughed, out of relief or surprise or adrenaline or a mix of them all.

“Really, Marina should get most of the credit,” Jackson said, putting his arm around her.

“We both had the idea,” Marina said.

“But you’re the one who really figured out how to do it,” Jackson said.  “She’s a lot more organized than I am.  Doesn’t take much.”  She grinned at him.

“Whoever put that food area together did a great job,” Leslie said, wandering back from examining the shelves.  “It’s a good selection.  Very nutritionally sound.  And there are good breakfast options.”  She held out a hand to Jackson.  “Hi.  I’m Leslie Knope.”

“Yeah, we got that,” Jackson said, shaking her hand.  “I’m Jackson.  Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” Leslie said, beaming.  “You’re Mulder and Scully’s son?”

“Yeah, basically,” Jackson said.  “Anyway, you should all feel free to crash here for a little bit.  We’ve got plenty of food.”

“And we’ve been tracking the aliens,” Marina said, gesturing to the computer, “and it’s like Jackson said.  They don’t stay in one place that long.  They tend to move on once they’ve…well, once enough people in the area are infected.  So you should be able to move on by the morning, anyway.  And we can help you figure out the best route to avoid them.”

“Thank you for this,” Leslie said.  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“It’s fine, really,” Jackson said. 

As they settled in, exploring the shelter, Scully joined Marina, who was looking at something on the computer.  “This really is an incredible space,” she said.

“Thanks,” Marina said.  “We’ve worked hard on it.”

“Jackson hasn’t told us that much about you,” Scully said.  She felt she should try to get to know Marina, even if this was an odd situation to do it in.  “How did the two of you meet?”

“Oh, we met online,” Marina said. 

“On a dating site?” Scully asked.  That didn’t really seem like Jackson’s thing.

“No, on a site for people who’ve had personal experience with the paranormal,” Marina said.  That made a lot more sense.  “We’d had some similar experiences, so we started talking.  Then we met up and…well, here we are.”

“How long have you been working on this place?” Scully asked.

“A couple of years,” Marina said.

Scully sighed.  “Jackson,” she called across the space, “why don’t you tell me and Mulder anything?”

“I tell you lots of things,” Jackson said.  “What things don’t I tell you?”

“Well, Marina tells me you’ve been together for some years now,” Scully said, “and you’ve barely told us anything about her.”

“I guess I forgot.”

“Flattering,” Marina said.

“Well, I figured you guys would meet sometime,” Jackson said, “and then Marina could tell you herself.  Like she’s doing, apparently.”  He turned back to showing Mulder some sort of water-filtration device.  Leslie and Ben were examining the canned food again.

“So…well, where are you from?” Scully asked.  She wished she could think of something less banal. 

“Near LA, originally,” Marina said.  Then she smiled.  “Look, we could just talk about the aliens.  I know it’s what we’re both thinking about.”

Scully smiled back.  “Sure, we could do that.  You said you’re tracking them?”

“Yes,” Marina said, opening a page on the computer screen.  “I’ve got a system of alerts set up, for whenever they’re seen somewhere—so long as people report it, which they usually do, online or wherever.  And then it follows their progress.  It’s not as good as I would like it to be—I wish we could have some actual surveillance—but it’ll do for now.”

“No, this is great,” Scully said, looking at the computer.  “It’s going to be really helpful.”

“And we’ve got it so people can view it online,” Marina said.  “Hopefully it’ll keep some people safe, anyway.”

“What made you…how did you learn about the aliens?” Scully asked.  “If I can ask.”

“Sure, you can ask,” Marina said.  “I’m…well, I don’t know all the details, even though I’ve looked into it as much as I can.  But as far as I know, my biological mother, she was an abductee.  And I’m from one of the hybridization programs.  The one from the 90s.  So I’m…well…”  She flicked her ponytail to the side, briefly, and Scully caught a glimpse of a green blister on her neck.  “Well, I was always different.  And I got curious about it and started looking into everything.”

Like Emily, then.  She didn’t know why this should surprise her, that Emily hadn’t been one of a kind.  Scully didn’t know how to feel; there was still anger, still sadness, when she thought about what had been done to her and to so many others.  But right now, looking at Marina, in this space that she had made with Scully’s son, there was a strange kind of joy too.

She hugged Marina, impulsively, and smiled sheepishly at the younger woman’s questioning look.  “Just glad we’re safe for now,” she said.

“Yeah,” Marina said, “me too.”

Jackson and Mulder came up to them then.  “Marina showed you the tracking system?” Jackson asked.

“Yes,” said Scully.  “It’s very impressive.”

“I think it should be all right by the morning,” Marina said, showing him something on the screen, “but they’re still around the local roads.  See?”

“Oh yeah,” Jackson said.  “You guys can stay here tonight.  You too,” he called to Leslie and Ben, who came over to look at the computer too.

“Thanks,” Leslie said.  “We’re sorry to trespass on your space.  You’re welcome to visit us, though.  Once this situation is more under control.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Jackson said.  “I always wanted to visit the White House.  Not the tourist parts.  So I could look for Lincoln’s ghost.  Have you seen him?”

“We just got there last week, so not yet,” Leslie said.  “But I bet we will.”

“I didn’t think he appeared to people,” Ben said.  “Just caused weird manifestations.  Didn’t Eleanor Roosevelt say Fala would bark at him?”

“Yes, she did,” Leslie said.  “I don’t know if he appears to a lot of people.  But I think he’ll appear to me, eventually.  At least by my second term.”

This led into a more general discussion of ghosts, which seemed to be a topic that interested everyone.  Maybe it was just that they didn’t want to talk about what was going on outside.  Even Scully found herself joining in.  It was easier to think about a threat that wasn’t real than a threat that very much was.

They broke into the canned food for dinner and by common consent decided to get to sleep early.  Jackson and Marina had a lot of sleeping bags and extra blankets, and they settled down throughout the hideout, saying good night in quiet voices.

Scully wanted to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.  She shifted in her sleeping bag next to Mulder.  “Are you asleep?” she whispered.  She was pretty sure he wasn’t, from his breathing.

“Nope,” he whispered back.  “You either?”

“I can’t,” she said.  “This is all so weird.”

“Tell me about it.”  He moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, comfortably.  That felt familiar, at least, even if the rest of this didn’t.  No, that wasn’t right.  It wasn’t that the situation felt entirely unfamiliar.  It felt all too familiar in some ways, a past she thought they’d shed.

“I thought we were done with this,” she told him.  “I thought we were finally done.”

“I know, Scully,” he said.  “I thought so too.”  They hadn’t had a chance to talk about this yet, with everything that had been happening.  Of course, they’d barely had a chance to sleep either, and maybe they should be concentrating on that.  But right now, talking to him felt more important.

“And then…I didn’t know about all this,” Scully said.  “That Jackson had this whole place.  I had no idea.”

“Apparently paranoia doesn’t skip a generation,” Mulder said.

“Well, apparently it’s not paranoia, either,” she said.  “I’m kind of proud of him, actually.  Weirdly.  They’ve done a good job here.”

“They have,” Mulder said.  “We have a good kid, Scully.  Two good kids.”

She nodded.  “I hope Susanna’s…I hope she’s holding up okay.”

“She will be,” Mulder said, although she could tell from his voice that he was worried too, that he didn’t like being away from their daughter at a time like this.  “She’s strong.  Like her mom.”  He nuzzled her hair, and she pressed her cheek to his.  “Plus she’s got Pip.”

Scully smiled.  “That’s not nothing.”  They were quiet for a minute.  “Do you really think we’ll be able to stop this?”

“We have to,” he said.  That wasn’t really an answer to her question, but she knew he was right.

She squeezed his hand, under the blankets.  “We’re…we’re as prepared for this as anyone could be,” she said.  “That has to count for something, right?”

“Right,” Mulder said. 

“We should try to get some sleep,” Scully said, half reluctantly.  “That can’t hurt either.”

“Right again,” Mulder said, and they huddled against each other and tried to rest.

 

“Ben, are you asleep?” Leslie asked.  She tried to keep her voice down.  This underground hideout wasn’t especially large, and they were sharing it with people they hadn’t known all that long, so she thought it was important to be courteous.

“No,” Ben said.  “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Leslie said.  “You want to talk for a while?”

“Sure,” he said.  “What about?”  The light was very dim, but she could see his face looking up at her, sweet, sincere.  She thought about how much she loved him, not for the first time.  Alien invasions had a way of making you take stock.

“I’m kind of mad about this happening on my first day,” she said.  “I hope that doesn’t make me sound shallow.  It’s true, though.”

“No, you have the right to be mad,” Ben said.  “You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Well, I did,” Leslie said.  “That’s what happened when I took the oath of office.  I signed up for whatever was coming.  I just didn’t think it would be this big this soon.  And this…paranormal.”

“I don’t think anyone thought that,” Ben said.  “It’s not really something you could anticipate.”

“You did tell me that I had to fill you in if they briefed me on the aliens,” Leslie pointed out.

“True,” Ben said.  “Maybe I’m psychic.”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s happened in the last few days,” Leslie said.  “It would be cool if you were psychic.  You could tell me what was going to happen on _Game of Thrones_.”

“No one can do that,” Ben said.  “Now that it’s so different from the books…”

“Good point,” Leslie said.  “Well, you could tell me how all this was going to turn out, then.  With the aliens.  If I’d be remembered as the president who presided over the demise of the human race.”  She didn’t want that, and not just because of concerns about her legacy.  She’d gone into government because she wanted to help people.  She didn’t want to think that this might be a situation where she couldn’t do that.

“You won’t,” Ben said.  “I know it.”

“How do you know?” Leslie asked.  “You’re not really psychic, are you?”

“For a couple reasons,” Ben said.  “First of all, there’s that thing they say.  About times getting the leaders they need.  This is a time that needs a great leader, and I think we’ve got one.”  He smiled at her, and she smiled back, sliding closer to him in their sleeping bags.  “And whatever kind of time it is, you’re Leslie Knope.  You never met a crisis you couldn’t solve.”

“I never met a crisis this big,” Leslie said.

“How different can it be,” Ben asked, “from an unruly town meeting?  It’s just a lot of…beings…causing a ruckus because they can’t get what they want.”

She laughed.  “You’ve always been so excited about aliens and things.  And now you’re saying they’re no different from what we’re used to.”

“I guess I didn’t know what they’d be like,” Ben said, more soberly.  “I’d just as soon do without them, now.  Not that some of it isn’t interesting.  Those stories Mulder was telling, when we were driving.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I gathered you were interested.”

“Well, it seems like the two of them know what to do,” Ben said.  “It’s good we found them.”

“And we’ll figure out what to do too,” Leslie said.  “The two of us.  I’m glad we’ve got your brains, Ben.  And your butt.”

“And my butt,” he said, smiling sleepily as she wrapped an arm around him, and she held him close until they both fell asleep.

They were up early in the morning, eating pre-packaged breakfast food;  it was a pale imitation of the real thing, but it was still better than nothing.  They took a plan for their route with them, based on Jackson and Marina’s tracking system.  Hopefully they’d be able to avoid aliens on the road.

Leslie studied the plan as they started driving.  “Hey,” she said.  “We go right by Pawnee with this.”

“That’s where you’re from?” Scully asked.

“Lived there all my life,” Leslie said.  “It’s the best town in the US.  You’d love it.  Have you spent any time in Indiana?”

“There were a couple of cases,” Scully said.

“That Cher concert,” Mulder said; he smiled at Scully, and she smiled back.  Leslie waited, but they didn’t seem inclined to elaborate.

“Should we stop off when we get there?” Leslie asked. 

“It might be good to get the rest,” Ben said.

“I don’t mean we should stop for too long or anything,” Leslie said.  “Just to eat and stretch our legs.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Mulder said.  “Scully?”

“Sure, we could do that,” she said.

“Great!” Leslie said.  She didn’t want to delay their mission, but she liked the thought of stopping in Pawnee more than she could say.  Going home…it would be something familiar in the midst of all that was so confusing and scary.

Of course, it might not be that familiar at this point.  The aliens might have been there already, in which case things would probably have changed.  And they’d probably changed the town motto to “Welcome, aliens!” by now.

Still, she liked the idea of showing her town to people.  When they finally drove in (they had, in fact, changed the motto to “Welcome, aliens!”, although the sign declaring it was still a mostly-cardboard work in progress), she pointed things out to Mulder and Scully.  “That’s Pawnee Commons,” she said.  “It’s a park I built.  And those people sitting on the grass are the Reasonablists.  They’re a cult that worships Zorp.”

“Zorp?” Scully asked.

“He’s a twenty-eight foot tall lizard alien,” Leslie said.  “He’s going to come and bring about the end of the world.”

 “And melt people’s faces off, I think?” Ben added.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Leslie said.  “And they like to play wooden flutes.”

“This is fascinating,” Mulder said.  “Do you know how they developed this belief?”

“Yes, someone wrote a book about it and it caught on,” Leslie said.  “There used to be a lot of them.  They even took over the city for a couple of years in the 1970s.  But now they’re not as active.  They’re probably out today because of the invasion.”

“When we have a little more free time,” Mulder said, “I want to hear everything about this.  This is one of the weirdest cults I’ve ever heard about.  And I’ve encountered a lot of weird cults.”

“At least they sound relatively harmless,” Scully said.  “Right?”

“Yeah, they’re not so bad,” Leslie said.  “Just careless with the Port-a-Potties.”  She pointed out the window again.  “That’s Ron’s house.  We worked together for a long time.  He’s one of my best friends.”  She looked at the others.  “Maybe we could stop just for a minute?  To see how he’s doing?”  If there was anyone who’d be going on just as before, she thought, Ron would.  But she still wanted to see.

They pulled up in front of the house and got out of the car.  Leslie knocked on the door.  She knocked again.  And again.  But nobody answered.

Ben put an arm around her.  “They’ve probably gone for cover somewhere,” he said.  “Somewhere that’ll be safe.  You know how Ron is.”

“I know,” Leslie said, and she did.  Most of her believed that Ron was alright.  She hadn’t realized, though, how much she’d wanted to see him and to talk to him, to get the kind of advice that only he could give.  “I’m going to leave him a note,” she said, “for when he gets back.” 

She had a notebook with her, and she wrote her note quickly.  _Dear Ron, It’s Leslie.  We came through here on our way to try to stop the aliens.  Ben says you’ve probably taken cover somewhere safe, and I’m sure he’s right.  I wish I could have seen you, though.  We’ll have to see each other once the aliens are gone.  Love, Leslie._ She tore it out of the notebook and slid it under the front door.  “All right, I’m ready,” she said.  “We should keep going.  I know where we can go.”

Despite her words, Leslie was a bit nervous as she knocked on the door; she didn’t know what could have happened, and she didn’t want to face the thought of another friend gone who knows where.  But the door opened quickly.  “Leslie!  And Ben!  Oh, I’m so happy to see you guys!”

“We’re so happy to see you too,” Leslie said, returning Jerry’s hug.  She really was, too.  Happier than she could have imagined being.  Another strange thing about the last couple of days.

“What Leslie said,” Ben added, hugging him in turn.  “You and Gayle are safe?”

“Oh, yeah, perfectly safe,” Jerry said.  “We watched the inauguration, Leslie.  Your speech was great!”

“You really thought so?  Thank you!” Leslie said.  “I didn’t think anyone would remember it by this point.  Because of the alien invasion.”

“Oh, no one paid any attention to that,” Jerry said.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“I think some people paid attention,” Leslie said.  “They’re kind of trying to colonize us now, actually.  I probably should worry.”

Jerry nodded.  “All right.  Just not too much.  Remember, you’re the president now.”

“That’s exactly why I should worry,” Leslie pointed out, but Jerry was already moving on to other topics.

“You should come inside, all of you.  Are these your secret service agents?” he asked, gesturing towards Mulder and Scully.

“No, these are Fox Mulder and Dana Scully,” Leslie said.  “They’re two former FBI agents who are helping us deal with the aliens.”

“Well, they should certainly come inside, in that case,” said Jerry.  “Do you all want anything to eat?  I’ll tell Gayle you’re here.”   He ushered them into the living room.

Jerry returned with Gayle; Leslie could tell Ben was about to start muttering his astonishment at how the two of them had possibly gotten married.  She nudged him with her elbow, sternly.  “It’s great to see you, Gayle,” she said.  “You’re doing okay?”

“Well, the circumstances could be better, of course,” said Gayle.  “But we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

“Has there been any alien activity around here?” Mulder asked.

“Not yet,” Gayle said.  “At least not that we’ve noticed.”  Leslie wasn’t surprised.  If the aliens had been in Pawnee, Jerry would surely have been the first person to get abducted.  She meant it in the nicest possible way, but it was true.  “But we’ve been keeping up with everything on the news,” Gayle said.  “Do you want to watch?”

“Sure,” Leslie said.  She’d been checking in with her advisors on her phone, but it would be good for her to see some footage of what they were dealing with.

They sat down, and Gayle switched the news on.  “…Now, the story of this oil is, it’s black.”

It was good to be home.

 

It was afternoon when they left the house to drive on towards Lake Michigan.  Mulder had been glad of the rest, and Jerry and Gayle had been very hospitable to them, even if he hadn’t found the local news particularly informative.  At least it seemed like there weren’t aliens in the area, which was something.  They couldn’t be sure what lay ahead, but they could only hope.

Leslie was taking her turn at the wheel now, and Mulder was in the backseat with Scully.  “I never expected to get driven around by a president,” he murmured to her.

She smiled, a little sleepily.  “Me neither.  But it’s not bad.”

“You tired, honey?” he asked her.

“A little.”

“You should sleep then,” he said.  “We’ll need you firing on all cylinders, when we get there.”

“Okay,” she said.  Their years on the road had served them well in this; they could sleep anywhere now.  She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.  In just a few minutes, he could tell from her measured breathing that she was asleep.  She’d probably drool on him, not that he minded.  In fact, he minded so little that right now it seemed like one of the things he wanted to fight for: the continuation of a world in which Scully could drool on him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Leslie said softly, from the front seat.  He didn’t realize until she added, “For the two of you.  And for everyone,” that she was addressing him.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself that,” he said; he kept his voice quiet too, not wanting to wake up Scully.  “It’s just that…we’ve been through a lot because of this.  The aliens, I mean, and the people who were working with them.  And we thought it was over.  This time we honestly did.  And I’m not complaining or anything, because I know it’s a lot bigger than just us, and I really—I want to stop this.  But I’m wondering, now, if it’ll ever be over.  I really wanted it to be.”  He didn’t want to get back into this, to go back to the way he’d been in the past—to the things that had hurt him and the people he loved, to the things that had torn him and Scully apart too many times.  He wouldn’t let that happen again—never—but he couldn’t help being afraid of what might become of them.

“I don’t blame you for being upset,” Leslie said.  “I hope you’re not…well, angry that I dragged you into this.”

“No, of course not,” he said.  “I wouldn’t have felt right, just sitting back.  And I know that goes for Scully too.”

“This isn’t something I ever expected to happen,” Leslie said.  “I’ve wanted to be president since I was a kid.  So I could help people.  And I know that…Ben and I were talking, last night, about hard times demanding great leaders.  But I just hope I can be that leader.  Right now, I’m not…I’m not one hundred percent sure.”  She almost laughed.  “Sorry.  I shouldn’t say that.  Not very reassuring.”

“Well, it’s refreshing, anyway,” Mulder said.  “You rarely hear a politician admit they don’t have all the answers.”  She was silent, and he went on.  “And it’s pretty unusual, too, for a president to personally drive across the country to defeat aliens.  I’d say you’re doing all right, under the circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Leslie said.

“Speaking of driving,” he said, “let me know if you want to switch.”

“I’m still good for now,” Leslie said.  She glanced over towards the passenger seat.  “And Ben and Scully are asleep, anyway.  We might as well let them keep resting.”

“Might as well,” he said, and they sat in silence as they drove on.

He must have dozed off himself; he started awake when the car stopped.  Next to him, Scully murmured, “Mulder…what…where…”

“We’re in the car,” he told her.  “Going to Lake Michigan, remember?  Leslie, why are we stopping?”

“Because we’re here,” Leslie said.  She was shaking Ben awake.

It was dim outside by now, but Mulder saw that she was right; the waters of Lake Michigan gleamed under the last rays of the sun.  “We should start looking,” he said.  “I’ll get the files out.”

“And I’ve got masks,” Scully said.  “We should put them on.  There’s nothing to protect against the oil completely, of course, but it could help.”

“And I’ve got flashlights in the trunk,” Leslie said.  “You shouldn’t go out in the dark without flashlights.”

“We couldn’t agree more,” Scully said.

“Also I have a bag of candy,” Leslie said, handing them the flashlights.  “Should I bring that too?  Or will it attract the aliens?”

“I don’t think aliens are really into candy,” Ben said.  “Or are they?  To be frank, I’m beginning to think that most things I thought I knew about aliens are lies.”

“No, they’re not into candy,” Scully said.  “That part’s not a lie, anyway.”

“I’ll bring it, then,” Leslie said.  “Let’s get going.”

They started walking along the shore, Scully training her flashlight on the files Mulder was carrying.  “We don’t have exact coordinates,” he said, trying to read and walk at the same time.  “Only some landmarks.  There were reports of strange things happening next to a certain dock.  It’s got a little footbridge leading up to it…and there are sand dunes…”

“That could be a lot of places,” Ben said, gesturing towards the shore.  “Is there anything more specific?”

“I’m checking,” said Mulder.  “Yes.  On one of the dunes there’s a tree that’s bent over.  So it looks like there’s a hole in the trunk.  One of the eyewitnesses…he said he thought it was a bad omen.  We should look for that.”

They moved their flashlights in the dark, scanning the landscape, looking for the tree that was mentioned in the files.  It was just a tree, Mulder knew—in this case, he didn’t really think it was a bad omen—but somehow everything felt more threatening, with the sun almost entirely gone now.  The masks on everyone’s faces didn’t help.

“Is that it?” Ben asked suddenly.  A tree was caught in the beam of his flashlight, a hole in the trunk illuminated.  Mulder squinted into the light; he was about to answer, but Scully spoke first.

“That’s it,” she said, and something in her voice made Mulder look down, into the beam of her own flashlight.  It was trained downwards, and he could see something moving along the ground.  Creeping?  Oozing?  The oil, he realized.  The oil.

“Okay,” he said.  “We should…let’s be careful.  Especially the two of you,” he said, gesturing to Leslie and Ben.  “You haven’t been exposed to this before.  Scully, what do you need?”

“I’m going to get a sample,” she said, sliding on rubber gloves, taking a vial from a pocket.  He’d seen her like this a million times.  It had never felt more important.  “You guys just…keep watch for me, okay?”

“Of course,” he said; he saw Leslie and Ben nodding, their faces solemn above their masks in the glare of the flashlights.  He squinted into the dark again.  There was the tree.  There was the shore.  There was Scully, stooping down with her vial.  There was…there was a face looking back at him, coming out of the darkness towards them.  Advancing on Scully.

Mulder moved before he could think about it, running to head the figure off: he wasn’t sure, at this distance, if it was an alien or a human, but he could tell that it meant trouble.  But when it reached out and grabbed for him, he could tell.  An alien, and its grip was strong, forcing him back, and he wasn’t at the right angle, he couldn’t shoot for the back of the neck…He thought he heard Scully calling his name, thought he saw her rising out of the corner of his eye, but the alien was grabbing his neck now and his vision was blurry…

And then it released him, suddenly, falling to the ground.  His eyes were stinging—he knew this feeling, it was what happened when you came in contact with that green blood, and the masks didn’t seem to be doing much to stop it—but he wasn’t choking any more, for which he was grateful.  Next to the fallen alien stood Ben, holding a sharpened stick, wearing an expression that was equal parts proud, stunned, and extremely teary.

“I remembered…what you told us…” he choked out.  “Did I…just kill an alien?”

“Looks like you did,” Mulder said.

“So proud of you, babe,” Leslie said.  She was teary-eyed too, but she managed an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Oh my God,” Ben said.  “This really stings.”

“Yeah, we told you about it, right?” Mulder said.  “They have green blood…and they release it, when you kill them.”

“Yeah, you told us,” Ben said.  “But I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“It’s really bad,” Leslie added, nodding.  “But it’s okay.  You killed an alien.  You can tell the kids about it, when we get back.”

The idea seemed to mollify Ben somewhat, despite his continued choking noises, and in a moment Scully stood up.  “I’ve got a sample,” she said.  “And I think we should get out of here.  We’re too exposed, and we don’t know if there are more of them coming…”  She looked over her shoulder.  “Scratch that.  There are.  Let’s run.”

“We shouldn’t…?”  Ben brandished his stick vaguely.

“No,” Scully said.  “We should run.”  Mulder looked towards the trees—it was still dim, but he could see at least five aliens coming, and he took off along with Scully.  Ben seemed to see the wisdom of her words—flight over fight—because he and Leslie were right at their heels.

They used to do this all the time, Mulder remembered, on every case, and he wondered how they had managed it.  For now, the adrenaline was buoying him as he sprinted towards the car, but he knew that he couldn’t keep up this speed forever and that he was definitely going to feel this later.  Fortunately, the car wasn’t very far away; they each dove for the closest door, Ben ending up in the driver’s seat.  “Should I—?”

“Drive!” Scully yelled; she was somewhere on the floor of the backseat at the moment, tangled around Mulder’s legs.  And they sped down the road, not exactly in what Mulder would call a straight line.

“Don’t hit that tree!” Leslie shouted.

“Sorry!”  Ben swerved abruptly, and they all jolted.  That was Scully’s elbow in his eye, Mulder was pretty sure; his face was already swollen, of course, but this really didn’t help.  “I can’t see very well.  My eyes are still stinging.”

Mulder did his best to look out the back window of the car—it was dark, but he thought he could still see movement behind them.  “Well, keep going anyway,” he said.  “Maybe turn somewhere.”

“If there’s an actual turn,” Scully added; she was still half on the floor, and Mulder pulled her up onto the seat.  “No more of these swerves, if possible.”

“I said I was sorry,” Ben said.

“Shit, I dropped the candy,” Leslie said.  “Do you still have the sample?  I hope it didn’t go flying somewhere.  I’d just as soon not go back there, if we can help it.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Scully said, holding out the vial.  “Hold it for me while I do my seatbelt?” she asked Mulder, and he nodded, taking it gingerly. 

“So where to now?” Leslie asked.  “Once we shake the aliens.”

“We need to get somewhere that has a lab I can use,” Scully said.  “And somewhere we can stay for the night.  I’ll stay up and work on this, but there’s no reason the rest of you shouldn’t get some sleep.”

“Is there anything we can do about our eyes?” Ben asked.

“Not really,” Mulder said.  “You just have to wait for it to pass.”

“This’ll teach you to wantonly kill aliens,” Leslie said.  “Violence obviously isn’t the answer.”

“You said you were proud of me!” Ben said.

“I am proud of you,” Leslie said.  “But now that you’ve killed one alien, you don’t need to do it again.  How different can it be, killing one alien versus another?”  She looked into the backseat, as if she expected Mulder and Scully to provide an answer.

“Um…not that different,” Mulder said. 

“See, Mulder says it’s not that different,” Leslie told Ben.  “And he ought to know.  See any more aliens coming?”

“I don’t think so,” Mulder said.  “We might have outdriven them, for now anyway.”

“It was probably all that swerving,” Leslie said.  “Still proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks,” Ben said.  “Where should we go to find a lab?”

Mulder looked on his phone; there was a research hospital in the next town over, one that Scully knew by reputation and said would have what she needed.  “There’s not much else in that town, though,” she said.  “I hope we can find somewhere to stay.”

They did, eventually, after a lot of driving around: a small motel near the hospital.  They all looked a little the worse for wear as they walked into the building, but the woman at the desk didn’t react.  “We’d like two rooms for the next few nights, please,” said Leslie.

“There’s only one room,” the woman said.  “Place is full up.”

“What?” Leslie asked.  “The country’s in the middle of an alien invasion and people are choosing this time to go on vacation?”

“Yeah, well, I think they wrecked some people’s houses or something,” the woman said.  “Besides, who are you to talk?  You’re trying to stay here too.”

“That’s different,” Leslie said.  “We’re here on important business.”

“Good for you,” the woman said.  “We still only have one room.”

“Should I pull rank?” Leslie asked, turning to the rest of them.

“Doesn’t matter what your rank is,” the woman said.  “Unless your rank involves conjuring up additional rooms.”

“Look, it’s fine,” Scully said.  “I won’t even be here most of the time.”

“Yeah, we’ve done this before,” Mulder added.  “Not a big deal.”  He turned to the woman.  “We’ll take it.”

The room was clean enough, and the bed was good-sized, at least.  “I think…I’ll take a very fast shower,” Scully said, glancing at the clock.  “And then I’ll head over to the hospital.”

Mulder sank into a chair.  When he next became aware of his surroundings, it was almost three in the morning; Leslie and Ben were lying on the bed, asleep.  He stretched—the chair hadn’t been the most comfortable place to sleep in—and headed for the door, passing by the front desk.  “Anywhere you can get food at this hour?” he asked the woman.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Diner next door.  Open all night.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said, giving her a nod and leaving the motel. 

It didn’t take him long to get what he wanted—the diner wasn’t especially crowded at this hour—and he left the diner carrying sandwiches in a paper bag.  It only took a little longer to navigate his way through the hospital; he had to stop once and ask for directions, but he soon found the lab where Scully was working.  He tapped on the door.  She looked up.

“Hey,” she said.  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”  Her smile, though, said that she was glad he was there. 

He shrugged.  “I woke up.  And I brought you a BLT.  Do you want it now or…?”

“I’ll come out,” she said.  “It’s probably not a good idea to get bacon near the samples.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.  He kissed her cheek as she came into the outer room and waited while she washed her hands.  Then they perched side by side on chairs in the waiting area, eating their sandwiches. 

“Where are Leslie and Ben?” Scully asked him.

“Still at the motel,” Mulder said.  “Asleep.”

“That’s good,” Scully said.  “You were all asleep when I left.  Did you sleep through until now or…?”

“Yeah, I did,” Mulder said.  “Don’t worry about me, Scully.  If I wanted to go back to sleep, I would.  I’d rather be here with you.”

She smiled again.  “I’d rather that too, Mulder.  If you’re really not tired.”

“I’m really not,” he said.  “Besides, there’s not much space to sleep anyway.  Even if I wanted to.  That chair was killing me.”

“I think we’re a little past our peak days,” Scully said, “for running around and sleeping anywhere.  I had such a crick in my neck from sleeping in the car.  And my feet are tired.”

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“You already helped,” Scully said, waving what remained of her sandwich.  “And just having you here.  That’s good too.”

“How’s it coming?” he asked—he wasn’t sure about alluding to the subject, but he figured they’d have to talk about it soon enough, anyway.  “You making any progress?”

“I think so,” she said.  “Starting to get there, anyway.  I thought I’d get in touch with Leslie—we’ll need a way to distribute the vaccine, once I’ve figured it out.  She seems like the best person to coordinate that.”

“Sounds like something she can handle,” Mulder agreed.  “You want me to take a message back to her?”

“Sure,” Scully said.  “And then…come back here, okay?”

“Of course,” he said. 

Leslie and Ben were still asleep when Mulder got back to the hotel, but they were only moderately grouchy and disoriented when he shook them awake.  “What?” Leslie said.  “What?”

“Do we have to kill more aliens?” Ben asked.  “Please no.”  His eyes still looked a little swollen, but maybe that was just because he’d been asleep.

“No more aliens,” Mulder said.

“Ever?” Ben asked.

“In this room,” Mulder said.  “Scully wanted me to give you a message, Leslie.”

“Okay,” Leslie said.  “Just a second.”  She fumbled for a pad of paper and a pen.  “Okay.  I’m ready.”

“She’s making some progress with the vaccine,” Mulder said.  “So she wants you to start setting up a way to distribute it, once it’s finished.  Obviously as broadly and as quickly as possible—”

“Pssh, I wasn’t born yesterday,” Leslie said.  “I know how public health works, thanks.”  She was writing rapidly on the pad.  “Okay.  First I’ll call the Department of Health.  We’ll need to start setting up clinics.  Ben, are you fully awake now?  Can you work on this with me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ben said.  “You want me to get your health binder?”

“You know what I like,” Leslie said.

Ben headed for the desk, upon which Leslie had placed a large stack of binders.  “Let’s get to work then,” he said, retrieving the correct one.  “You can sleep on the bed for a while if you want, Mulder.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said, “but I’m heading back to the hospital.  Scully’s…well, I want to be with her while she’s working.”

“Understood,” Ben said, smiling at him.  “Tell her we’re rooting for her.”

“Of course,” Mulder said. 

Scully was still working when he got back to the hospital.  She nodded to the chair next to hers, without speaking; he could tell she was on the trail of something.  So he sat down beside her, not speaking either, just wanting to be there.

The hours went by, and this chair wasn’t any more comfortable than the one in the hotel room—less, actually, since it didn’t have any cushioning.  He stayed anyway, though, only getting up briefly—to go to the bathroom or to find them more food.  “Just us again,” Scully said at one point, when they were grabbing a snack in the hallway.

“Just us again,” he agreed.  “Eating weird things at weirder hours.”

“Always,” she said, and she smiled at him, and he felt more hopeful, even if it was for no concrete reason.

He’d lost track of the time completely—the clock in the lab only had one working hand—when Scully turned to him, a look of anticipation on her face.  “I think…I have it,” she said.  Her voice was quiet, maybe calm if you didn’t know her well.  But he did know her well.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“As sure as I can be, now,” Scully said.  “We’ll have to see how well it works, obviously.  But I’m almost positive.”

He picked her up then, from her seat into his arms; she giggled.  “You’re brilliant,” he said, his mouth against her hair.  “Have I told you you’re brilliant?”

“I don’t mind hearing it,” Scully said.  She kissed him quickly, then slid down to her feet.  “We’ll have to pick this up later, though.  There’s more work to be done.”

“You mean we don’t get to canoodle in a lab?” Mulder asked, following her as she gathered up her things, placing the vaccine carefully in an insulated box.  “It’s been years since we’ve canoodled in a lab.”

“You make a good point,” Scully said; they were out the door now, walking towards the elevator.  “We should plan on that, once we get home.  But right now, we need to work on producing more vaccine and on distributing it as quickly as possible.”

Leslie and Ben were intent on a pile of papers, but they looked up as Mulder and Scully came into the motel room.  “What’s the news?” Leslie asked.

“I think I’ve developed a working vaccine,” Scully said. 

“You’re finished?” Leslie asked.  “This quickly?”  She was grinning from ear to ear even before Scully nodded.  “Scully, you’re brilliant and you’re beautiful!” she declared.

“That’s what I told her,” Mulder said, putting an arm around Scully, who was blushing.  “How’s it coming with the distribution plans?”

“We’re making good progress,” Leslie said.  “I’ve organized this kind of thing before—not on such a large scale, of course, and probably not quite this urgent, but it’s a start.  I’d think we should be able to start getting this out in the morning.”

“And we also worked on some ideas for quarantine,” Ben said, “for people who have already been infected.  We want you to check them over, of course—we don’t know how this virus works quite as well as you do.  But I tried to remember everything you told us earlier.”  He pointed to a document on his computer screen.

Mulder leaned in to read it, Scully looking over his shoulder.  “These are really good suggestions,” he said.

“Yes,” said Scully.  “I like this one especially, about repurposing existing facilities.”

Ben was the one who was blushing now.  “Well,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure I understood what the virus was like.  So I could do the best job possible.”

“Killing aliens and healing their victims,” Leslie said.  “Still proud of you.”  She yawned.  “I barely even know what time it is any more.  But it’s okay.  You two should have the bed.  We used it already.  For sleeping.”

“Thank you,” Scully said, heading for the bed and flopping down without further ado. 

Mulder followed her.  “Do you want to take your shoes off?” he asked.  No answer.  “Do you want me to take your shoes off?”  Still no answer.  She was asleep already.

“She’s been up so long,” he whispered to Leslie and Ben.  “I’ll just take her shoes off.”  Having done so, he lay down on the bed as well; Scully had sprawled across a large portion of it, but he managed to find room.  By now, it wasn’t difficult to fall asleep.

 

“Does my appearance,” Leslie asked him, “say, ‘Presidential, in-charge, successful against all threats from this planet or any other, but also thoughtful and concerned about ordinary Americans and the struggles they are still facing in rebuilding?’”

“Yeah,” Ben said.  “That was exactly what I thought, when I first looked at you.”

“Good!” Leslie said.  “We’re ready for the press conference, then?”

“Whenever you say the word,” Ben told her, and they walked into the press room.

Instantly, they were besieged with questions.  “President Knope, can you tell us more about the successful creation of the black oil vaccine?”

“Is the defeat of the aliens due to the army?”

“What should people do to be prepared against the future return of the aliens?”

“Now, these aliens, would you say they came from space?”

“One at a time, one at a time,” Leslie said.  The reporters quieted down, at least somewhat, and Leslie took her place at the podium.  “As I’ve always said—during my campaign and throughout my political career—there are two secrets to good government.  One is putting the people first.  And the other is having a strong team.  During the recent alien colonization crisis, I was very fortunate to have that.”  She smiled.  “When I was preparing for office, I of course did my due diligence on plans for extraterrestrial contact, but this turned out to be unlike anything I expected.  So I’d first like to extend my thanks to FBI director Walter Skinner, who recommended that I get in touch with retired agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.  Their help was absolutely invaluable in providing us with ways to deal with and combat the aliens, not to mention developing the vaccine that protected so many of our people against the black oil.  Without them, we might not be here right now.”

“What about the Battle of the Smithsonian?” one of the reporters asked.  “Why did you choose to attack the aliens in that location?”

“Because of its great strategic advantage,” Leslie replied smoothly; that sounded more presidential, Ben guessed, than _because that happened to be where they parked their spaceship._   “Incidentally, you’ll be glad to know that we are already working on plans to reopen the exhibits.  As soon as the air is determined to be fully nontoxic again.”

“What made the air so toxic in the first place?” a reporter asked.

“It’s what happens when you kill the aliens,” Leslie explained.  Ben watched her, marveling; only a few weeks ago, this would have been something out of a fantasy for him, something that he would never have believed could actually be real.  And now Leslie was talking about it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.  “They release a green substance.  I have first-hand experience with it, I’m afraid.  I was present when Ben killed one of the aliens.”  She shot him a grin.  “He was another invaluable member of our team during this crisis.”

“Do you believe the aliens will come back?”

“No, I think we’ve shown that our planet is not amenable to the idea of being colonized,” said Leslie.  “However, we will of course continue to monitor the situation.”

“What message would you send to people who have come in contact with the black oil?”

“Hang in there,” Leslie said, “and it’ll get better soon.  Most people who were infected are already healing.”

“What are you planning to do next, President Knope?”

“I’m looking forward to acting on my campaign promises,” Leslie said.  “The more terrestrial ones.” 

“What can you tell us about tonight’s celebration of the crisis resolution?”

“It should be a fun night!” Leslie said.  “We just arranged everything that we were originally planning for the inaugural ball.  Since that was cancelled.  Due to aliens.”  The reporters took frantic notes.

“You know, I didn’t know if I’d get to wear this,” Leslie said, examining her dress in the mirror as they were getting ready for the celebration that night.  “I thought the whole human race might be wiped out.”  Her tone was light, but Ben knew she wasn’t entirely joking.

“Well, we weren’t,” he said.  “And a lot of that’s thanks to you.”  He kissed her lightly.  “You were giving everyone else the credit earlier today.  But you deserve credit too.”

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him back.  They were quiet for a few minutes, as they finished dressing.  Ben was thinking about what they’d just been through, how excited he was to be seeing friends at the celebration tonight, when he’d thought just recently that he might not see those people again.

“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Leslie said—it wasn’t the first time their thoughts had been in sync, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.  “I’m just glad—we’ve been lucky.  That we’re all okay.”  He nodded, taking her hand, and then they went downstairs.  Sonia, Stephen, and Wesley were waiting for them in the entryway, all dressed up as well.  “Come on, everyone!” Leslie said, beaming, and they headed for the car.

The celebration was crowded already when they got there—everyone wanted to celebrate the defeat of the aliens, and Leslie never had the heart to refuse anyone an invitation.  They soon saw Mulder, Scully, and their kids, though.  “Hi!” Leslie said, moving through the crowd towards them.  “I’m so glad you could all make it.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Mulder said.  “Never thought we’d get invited to a ball.  Or actually be in favor with government officials.  Right, Scully?”

“Right,” Scully said.  “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Susanna added, blushing; she still seemed a bit tongue-tied around Leslie, although she’d become fast friends with the triplets during her brief stay at the White House.

“So what do the two of you have planned?” Ben asked.  “Now that we’ve saved the world and all.”

“Back to retirement,” Mulder said.

“And praying it’ll stick this time,” Scully added.

“Well, I’ll certainly miss having your advice,” Leslie said, “but I understand.  And I know we’ll stay friends—oh my God, there’s Ann.”  She abruptly pushed past Scully, as well as several people who were standing behind her, and rushed towards the door, where Ann was just coming in.

“Don’t take it personally,” Ben told Mulder and Scully.  “She’s like this with everyone, when Ann shows up.”  He wanted to say hello to Ann too, but he figured he’d let Leslie have her moment first.  “So,” he asked Mulder and Scully instead, “what eventually happened in that town with the vampires?”  He would have thought that what they’d been through would have cured his interest in paranormal adventures.  But somehow, he was finding, it hadn’t.

Ben and Leslie hadn’t really had a peaceful moment since the inauguration—even after the aliens were gone, they’d been concentrating on dealing with the aftermath—so tonight was especially welcome.  They spent time talking to old friends, of whom there were many; even Ron, who’d just emerged from the cabin in the woods where he’d holed up against the aliens, had agreed to make an appearance.  “Don’t think I’m not still against these large government functions,” he told Ben.  “But it’s Leslie.  You understand.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed.  “It’s Leslie.”

“And,” Ron added, “there’s breakfast food.”  He gestured complacently to his plate.  Ben hadn’t been sure that breakfast food was traditional for this kind of celebration, but Leslie had pointed out that she liked breakfast food and that most people found it very comforting, which was sorely needed in times like these.  He hadn’t been able to argue with that one.

There was dancing too, and Ben held Leslie tightly as they moved among the other couples; he could see Mulder and Scully, dancing nearby, and he gave them a quick wave.  They waved back.  Then he turned back to Leslie.  “Defeated an alien threat,” he said, “and threw a kick-ass celebration.  Not bad for your first month on the job.”

“Not what I originally had planned,” Leslie said, “but I agree, not bad.”

“It’ll really give you something to talk about,” he said, “in your State of the Union.”

She laughed.  “Too true.  But for now—let’s just dance.”

So they did.


End file.
